The Broker's Gambit
by La Chivita
Summary: Shepard has needs. Liara recruits Samantha Traynor to help fulfill them. Includes established FemShep/Liara in addition to the main FemShep/Traynor pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Although this story involves an established relationship between Shepard & Liara, the main pairing of the story is Shepard & Traynor, because the poor Specialist doesn't get nearly enough love from the fandom. It is light on plot and heavy on smut of the femslash variety. If any of the above description is not your cup of tea, then please consider moving along in search of a brew more to your taste.

Also, huge thanks to owelpost for the encouragement. If you've never read her story "Glacial Fire," then I humbly suggest that you _immediately _stop reading this to go rectify this situation (and yes, I believe that not reading her brilliant story totally counts as a "situation"). Really, go on now. Don't worry, this story will still be here when you're done.

**Disclaimer:** The characters and universe belong to Bioware. I've just borrowed them for a bit of playtime.

* * *

"Shepard wants you, you know."

Samantha Traynor didn't take her eyes off of the chessboard, her face wearing the slight frown of concentration that Liara had grown familiar with during the course of their semi-regular games. The matches, played during stolen moments, provided them both with a welcome respite from their increasingly chaotic lives.

"I'm sorry. What was that?" Traynor's tone was distracted. She'd lost the last three matches to the asari, and she was determined to end her losing streak.

Realizing her opponent had not heard her, Liara repeated her statement with added emphasis. "I said, Shepard _wants _you."

The intensity in Liara's voice finally pulled Traynor's thoughts away from the stratagem she'd been devising, and as she looked up her expression shifted from concentration to confusion. "I'm sorry," she repeated, a note of query in her voice, "Shepard wants me what? Does she need me to do something?"

"Really, Samantha. I would expect someone of your intelligence to be more proficient at multitasking. What I have been trying to tell you, but you have been too distracted to hear, is that Shepard desires to have sex with you." Liara leaned forward, her gaze never wavering from studying the board, as she continued. "Need I remind you that it is your move?"

Sam was frozen in place, eyes wide and mouth agape. A small corner of her mind idly considered how comical she must look. _An avatar of stunned speechlessness, no doubt. _Finally finding her voice after several long moments, she managed to a spit out a response. "No. Surely you're mistaken."

Liara met her eyes for the first time since dropping a proximity mine in the middle of their chess match. Anger flickered in blue depths. "I do not make mistakes. Not when it comes to Shepard."

Traynor abruptly stood up and began pacing. "How do you..." she started before breaking off with a sharp shake of her head, staring intently at her feet as they carried her to and fro across the room. "What I mean is, why would you...no, that's not it either." She crossed the room a few more times in agitated silence before beginning again. "What I really mean is, _have you lost your mind_? Why would you tell me something like that? What precisely am I supposed to do with this information, assuming I even believe you? And I'm not saying I do."

"Well, you could consider returning to the game. I believe I'll have you checkmated within five moves."

"That settles it. You've _definitely _lost your mind. Heaven knows you're under enough stress. I mean, aren't we all, really? But especially you. Having to run the Shadow Broker network, manage all those agents, sift through all that data, while also scouring the galaxy for resources for the Crucible. Oh! And let's not forget all of the angry hoards of mercs and machines and monsters that try to shoot you, roast you, freeze you, or biotic you to death on an almost daily basis. Yes, that must be it. Unsurprising, really. I mean, anyone would crack under that strain."

Sam had continued pacing during her monologue, and she could feel the asari's gaze tracking her movements across the small cabin.

"Samantha. Sit." A beat later, she softly added, "Please." Sam stopped pacing and met Liara's steady gaze, the tension in the human's body suggesting that she was on the verge of fleeing the room. Liara schooled her features into an expression that she hoped was reassuring, or at the very least non-threatening.

Sam stared at her for a long moment and finally returned to her seat, although she kept her body poised to rise again at a moment's notice. Liara sighed in relief, grateful that her mask seemed to have allayed the human's fears enough to continue the conversation.

"I asked you here tonight specifically to share this recent discovery with you. I thought a casual atmosphere would make this conversation easier. I can see now that was wishful thinking." Liara paused to draw a deep breath, as if to steel herself before continuing.

"It is no secret Shepard and I are romantically involved, and have been so - off and on - for years. We are still together, and we are still committed to each other. However, in recent months a new...thread...has appeared within the fabric of our relationship. A thread of restlessness, of longing. It is only recently that I have discovered its origin. Put simply, it is you. Or, more specifically, Shepard's feelings for you."

"But, I never..." Sam barely got the words out before Liara interrupted her.

"Samantha, this will be easier if you will listen to me for the moment. I will answer what questions I can when I am done. But please, let me finish."

"The attraction Shepard feels towards you has become a growing liability. She feels frustrated in your presence. She feels guilty in mine. She is angry at herself because she thinks her feelings for you are a sign of her weakness. She thinks of herself as beyond human frailties, and she is proven wrong every time she thinks of you. She thinks she is failing me, and it _terrifies _her - because if she can fail me, she can fail the galaxy."

Liara picked up one of the smooth wooden pieces from the board - her own queen, Sam absently noticed - and began idly massaging the piece between delicate blue fingers.

"This can't continue. I have tried to reassure her that she has not - _could _not - fail me. That I accept her for who she is, and that I know she has always been a woman of certain...proclivities. Desires. Our relationship is the first time she has even attempted monogamy, even though she finds it...limiting. It is one of the reasons I do not question the depth of her feelings for me." Liara paused, fixing Sam with a piercing blue stare before continuing.

"This whole situation is one problem among many that prevents her from sleeping at night. If we are to prevail against the Reapers and save the galaxy, Shepard _must _be at her best, both physically and emotionally. Right now she is neither."

Sam interrupted, unable to restrain herself any longer. "I don't know what you want from me. I would never come between two committed people, and I can assure you I've done nothing to encourage this." _No matter the temptation,_she added silently.

"Nothing?" Blue eyes flashed in challenge. "That is an interesting word choice. Tell me, what _exactly_was the motivation behind your little display in Shepard's shower?"

Sam swallowed. "Okay. So that was definitely an incredibly stupid lapse in judgment on my part. But, in my defense, at the time I didn't know that Shepard was taken, much less that her lover was the most powerful information broker in the galaxy. I may have been a little more obtuse than I care to admit, but even I'm not bumbling enough to knowingly attempt to seduce the Shadow Broker's woman."

Liara sighed yet again, her momentary flash of anger fading and leaving tired resignation in its wake. "I did not bring you here to assign blame, Samantha. I brought you here to help solve a problem. "

Sam stared at her hands, which were clenching and unclenching with nervous energy, before finally lifting her eyes to meet Liara's. "Okay. Let's pretend I believe you. But still, short of transferring to another ship, I don't see what I can do..." Sam's eyes widened as soon as the statement left her lips.

"Is that what this is about?" She accused, her voice growing increasingly agitated. "Are you trying to tell me I need to transfer? Because distraction or not, my place is _here_, doing what I can to help Shepard defeat the Reapers."

"Calm down, Samantha. I did not bring you here to convince you to transfer, or otherwise remove you from this ship. If nothing else, you are too valuable to the mission. Besides that, I consider you a friend - - and I have few enough of those that I'm not prepared to start throwing them away. No. I have examined this problem at length, and determined that the best solution is to facilitate a liaison between you and Shepard. If you are willing, of course. And from your behavior during the course of this conversation, I believe that you are."

"A liaison?" Sam's voice hitched on the word. "Between me and Shepard? You mean...oh God, you _do _mean. Are you serious? How can you possibly be serious?"

"Of course I am serious. Having an...encounter with you may not assuage her guilt. Although I am hopeful that my involvement in this arrangement will convince her that there is no need for her to feel guilty about her desires, or for acting upon them. But at the very least, being with you will hopefully...satiate her curiosity. 'Scratch the itch' is the phrase I believe you humans would use. And anything that can be done to ease _any_of the burdens she carries...well, it is worth the cost."

Liara brought her hand to her face, absently tracing some of the deep worry lines etched across its surface. "She's very close to falling apart, Samantha," she continued quietly. "This much, at least, I can do for her."

"Does Shepard know about your plan?"

"No. Not yet. I needed to speak with you first, to see if you would agree to it."

"But you actually think that _she _will agree to this lunacy?" Sam couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice.

"I do not think, I _know._I told you before, when it comes to Shepard I do not make mistakes." Liara paused, giving the specialist an open, appraising look. "I do not know if you've ever joined with an asari before, Samantha. It is...difficult for partners to hide strong emotions during the meld."

The asari was quiet for a long moment, leaving each woman alone with her thoughts. "I have tasted the depths of Shepard's desire for you. Believe me when I say that she _will _agree to this proposal."

Traynor's breath hitched at the certainty in Liara's voice, and her already flushed skin heated anew with the implications. Was Liara saying what she thought? That Shepard had been thinking of her while joining with the asari? That while she and Liara were...Shepard had been thinking of...No. It was too ludicrous to believe. It was impossible to imagine that anyone who had the beautiful, powerful, and damnably fascinating asari in their bed would ever be distracted by thoughts of a bookish communications specialist from the colonies.

Liara's voice broke her reverie. "So...If you have no other questions, I would appreciate your decision." Sam glanced at the asari. Although her pose exuded tranquility, the specialist couldn't help but notice the death grip the asari had around the unfortunate wooden queen still embraced by her left hand.

Sam continued to carefully study the unmoving face before her, asking in a guarded tone, "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. If I were to agree to this madness, where does that leave you? Are you _really_asking me to believe that you'd be completely fine with another woman having sex with your girlfriend?"

"Frankly, my thoughts and feelings about this situation are none of your concern. It is enough for you to know that I am doing this freely, of my own volition. "

"Okay. Fair enough. But I would not cause you pain, Liara."

Liara waved her hand dismissively, leaning forward to hold Samantha's gaze. "Shepard is the only one that matters here, Samantha. But if it helps to broker this arrangement, then know that I absolve you of blame for any...emotional repercussions I may suffer. It may also reassure you to know that asari culture is not so tied to the concept of monogamy as many humans appear to be. We live very long lives. It is common enough practice for our people to have multiple partners at any given time. The idea of 'lifetime commitment' takes on a different meaning when your lifetime stretches across a millennium."

The words lingered in the air, and Traynor found it impossible to glean any insight from the complete lack of expression in the asari's visage. But it did not escape her that all of Liara's assurances were couched in generalizations about asari culture, rather than specifics regarding her personal views on monogamy and commitment.

Yet again Liara interrupted her train of thought. "It grows late, Specialist, and I still have a lot of work to do before the evening is done. I believe I have presented you with enough information to properly evaluate the situation. I would appreciate a decision."

Still receiving no response from the human, Liara decided to try a different approach. "Do you find Shepard attractive?"

Sam inhaled at the bluntness of the question, and her eyes darted around the room in an effort to avoid the blue eyes trained upon her with such intensity. Sam could see little point in lying to the asari, who doubtlessly wouldn't believe it anyway. She likewise saw little advantage in revealing the depth of the truth behind her answer, and therefore she simply answered, "Yes."

Liara's voice held no trace of surprise or challenge when she responded. "Then your decision should be simple."

Sam let out a short, humorless laugh. "You could use many words to describe this entire proposal. 'Simple' is not one of them."

Traynor shot up out of her chair and resumed her pacing, her mind a whirl, still trying to get a grasp around the absurdity of this situation. This was like something out of some bad adult vid. Things like this didn't happen to normal people, did they? She certainly thought she was fairly normal. Well, beyond living with the constant threat of death at the hands of a Reaper. Or Cerberus. Although she supposed that passed for normal in these end times. She certainly wasn't exceptional like the two other players in this twisted drama - two of the most powerful and altogether _frightening _people in the galaxy. Based on that alone, a healthy sense of self-preservation dictated that she should flee the cabin and never come back.

_Could it be a trap? _Some small, paranoid corner of her mind wondered. Could Liara be trying to trick her into some admission of desire, leading to her quiet disappearance at the hands of a Shadow Broker agent the next time she was walking alone on the Citadel?

No. Sam rejected the idea as contrary to her observations of the asari. Liara was a methodical, patient chess player; a capable strategist, but a conventional tactician. Her strength lay in her ability to quickly formulate a plan of attack and commit to it, making adjustments - and sacrifices - as needed.

The silence in the cabin grew thick, and Sam knew she must say something. She laid out all of the information she had, analyzing each piece of it again, and made the only rational decision possible. She would reject the "proposal" and hope to escape this farce unscathed. Really, what other choice was there? She opened her mouth to say so, and was rewarded with the biggest shock of her life when she heard her own voice say "Yes, I'll do it."

She clasped her hand to her mouth, rendered completely speechless by her response. Where had that come from? She turned to the asari, frantically trying to reconnect her brain to her wayward mouth so she could retract her statement.

What she saw pulled her up short. A myriad of emotions danced across delicate blue features, and it was impossible to decipher them all. But the most recognizable emotion was relief. It flowed off of the asari in palpable waves, the tension leaving her body as she rubbed a hand briskly across her face, taking a moment to gently return the queen to its position on the chessboard.

"Thank you," came Liara's soft response. Genuine relief - and possibly even gratitude - lay behind her words.

Any further objections died on Traynor's lips, leaving her to nod in mute acknowledgment.

The moment quickly faded, and Liara's face once again slipped into an inscrutable mask. She stood up, her manner business like. "I will speak with Shepard at once. The sooner we can execute this plan, the better. Come to my cabin tomorrow after your shift ends. If Shepard responds as I predict she will, matters will be settled by then and we can go to her together."

Sam could do nothing more than stare, flabbergasted by the speed at which her life was spinning out of control. Her normal loquaciousness was completely stifled by the surreal situation.

"There is one other thing you should know. Understand that whatever happens between you and Shepard, it will not change my feelings for her, nor hers for me. Despite how this may appear, we _are _committed to each other. It would be...foolish for anyone to entertain thoughts of changing that. And you have never struck me a fool, Samantha."

Her warning issued and received, Liara turned to her monitors, her focus clearly shifting to the next item on her agenda. The dismissal in the gesture was obvious. As Sam turned to leave, still in a state of shock, Liara's voice stopped her short of the door one last time.

"Oh, and Samantha? I suggest you get as much rest as you can tonight. You're going to need it."


	2. Chapter 2

The door to Shepard's cabin opened and Sam followed Liara through like a dream walker. She couldn't shake the haze she'd been living in for the last 24 hours, when she'd left Liara's room in a swirl of confusion. Entering Shepard's cabin in the company of the commander's lover, with the understanding of all parties that she would soon become the same, did nothing to normalize her life. Her emotions whipsawed between hysterical disbelief, profound embarrassment, and an undeniable - and deeply distracting - wellspring of arousal.

"Liara. Traynor. Come in."

Sam followed the voice down to the living area, where she saw Shepard rise from the couch and set aside a datapad on the coffee table. She was dressed in her standard-issue uniform, her bare feet the only concession to her off-duty status.

"Sit down, make yourselves comfortable." The command came as Shepard walked to the small table on the far side of the room, where a bottle of amber liquid stood surrounded by three short glasses. Sam clamped down on the bubble of laughter she felt rising within her at the ludicrous idea of being "comfortable" in this situation. She distracted herself by studying the commander, who was busying herself by pouring drinks.

As always, Shepard moved with an effortless and confident grace. Sam wondered how much of the woman's fluidity was innate and how much was gained from years of physical training and discipline. She knew that some people - all of them petty - criticized Shepard for not fitting the mold of "classic" human beauty. She also knew that most of those same people would be instantly attracted to the woman if they had the good fortune to spend time in her presence. Shepard's charisma was palpable and ever-present - and a large part of the sex appeal that frequently threatened to overwhelm the specialist during the most inopportune moments. Like their daily briefings in the CIC.

Shepard returned to the couch and sat down beside Liara, leaving the asari situated in between the two human women. She didn't bother asking her guests if they wanted a drink as she wordlessly handed both of them a well-filled glass. From its smell Sam guessed it was Terran whiskey, and she absently wondered where Shepard had gotten the credits to purchase such a luxury.

Satisfied with her efforts at playing host, Shepard reached for her own glass, tilting it slightly towards the both of them in salute before offering a toast. "Here's mud in your eye." The whiskey quickly disappeared as Shepard brought the glass to her lips and drained it in a single, practiced motion.

"So." She gazed back and forth between her two visitors, her steady eyes absorbing the tableau before her. Although her statement sounded like a prelude to further conversation, none was forthcoming. The silence stretched into a tangible thing, filling the space between them with its heavy presence.

Liara eventually broke the silence, prefacing her remarks by clearing her throat and setting down her untouched drink on the table. "Yes. Well, as this gathering is largely my doing, I will assume the burden of...'breaking the ice' I believe is the human idiom." Sam marveled at the serenity exuded by the asari's voice, which held no trace of uncertainty or nervousness as she continued.

"I am here because I feel it is important for me to clearly and plainly state that I freely give my consent to your sexual union. You have likewise both told me that you consent to this encounter. I would suggest that you verbalize this consent to each other before progressing any further, but it is not my place to dictate your interactions."

Liara paused to take a breath, and Sam watched the asari fix Shepard with a gaze of such intensity that it seemed to physical grab the soldier and force her to meet her stare through sheer force of will.

"As this encounter is something to which we have all knowingly consented, there is _no _valid reason for anyone to feel guilt or shame about what transpires." Liara eyes held Shepard's for a long moment before the commander turned away, an indecipherable expression traced across her sharp features.

Liara's voice was quieter as she continued, lowering her eyes to her lap for the first time since beginning to speak. "There is little enough happiness in any of our lives to waste time and energy denying ourselves any pleasure that is freely given."

Her words still lingering in the air, Liara lifted herself off the couch in a single graceful motion and stepped past Traynor to move towards the exit. Standing before the door, she turned back towards the seated women, her measured voice clear as she said, "And now, I bid you both good night."

"Liara, wait." Sam watched as Shepard padded over to the door and leaned into the asari, murmuring words too soft for the specialist to hear. Liara gently grasped Shepard's arm and shook her head, murmuring a brief response. Shepard further closed the distance between them, leaving the barest gap between their bodies as she continued speaking. In response, Liara simply pulled away to give Shepard a long look that Sam couldn't interpret, followed by a barely perceptible nod. Releasing her grip on the soldier's arm, the asari didn't look back as she left the cabin.

Shepard stood facing the door, running her hands through her hair with a loud sigh.

A beat later she straightened her back and turned towards the cabin's interior. Sam's stomach lurched as Shepard settled down next to her, close enough that their knees made contact. The specialist visibly jumped as the unexpected touch sent a shiver of awareness through her body. Another shock soon followed as Shepard's calloused hands enveloped hers, which were still cradled around her whiskey glass. The contact ignited her nerves and an involuntary gasp escaped from her throat.

Strong fingers gently pried the empty glass from her hands, and Shepard's voice held an unmistakable smirk as she broke the silence. "Refill, Traynor? It's good for the nerves."

Sam stared at the glass, dumbfounded by its empty state - she couldn't remember drinking its contents. Shepard smiled at her, but the expression was more predatory than kind, and did nothing to allay her rising apprehension.

Instinctively needing to distance herself from Shepard's wolfish gaze, Sam yanked the glass out of the commander's hands and scrambled off the couch.

"I'll get it!" Sam fought to keep her voice level, but the quirk tugging at Shepard's mouth suggested she'd failed miserably. _Nice, Sammy...real smooth. Get a grip, soldier_. Sam continued monologuing as she walked towards the table on unsteady legs. Her limbs weren't usually this uncooperative, were they? She knew she wasn't the most coordinated soldier in the history of the Alliance, but she could usually manage to put one foot in front of the other without needing to concentrate so hard.

She sighed with relief when she reached her destination without making an even bigger fool of herself by tripping over her own feet. After setting the glass down on the table she took a moment to clutch the surface's edge in a white-knuckle grip.

_What am I doing here? This has to be against at least 42 different regulations. And you know whose ass will be the one sent out the airlock if this all goes to hell. Not the one that the entire galaxy is counting on to stop the Reapers. Besides, it would be criminal to space such a perfect ass. Stop it! That's the sort of thinking that got you into this mess. Stupid, Sammy. Just astoundingly, spectacularly stupid._

Sam could feel Shepard's gaze trained on her back like an enemy targeting system, just as focused and nearly as dangerous. She gave herself a mental shake and busied herself with refilling her empty glass. Surrendering to the reality that her momentary reprieve couldn't last forever, she deliberately recapped the whiskey bottle and turned back towards the commander, leaning against the edge of the table in what she futilely hoped was a perfect representation of nonchalance.

Wearying of being on the defensive, Sam forced herself to meet Shepard's eyes. Unable to think of appropriate small talk, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Dr. T'Soni says you've been having trouble sleeping." She ignored the nonplussed look on Shepard's face and barreled ahead, too afraid of silence to heed her better judgment and call off her plan of attack.

"I mean, she's worried about you. Obviously. And why wouldn't she be? I mean, after all, you and she are...well, of course I don't have to tell _you _that. She's not the only one, either. Worried, that is...Didn't mean to imply you have a closet full of other lovers. Not that you couldn't. Oh bloody hell, why is there never a Reaper attack when you actually need one? Um, all I really wanted to say is that Dr. T'Soni is worried..." Her voice feebly trailed off as she silently cursed her disastrous decision to open her mouth.

Amusement and consternation warred across Shepard's face in the wake of Sam's babbling. Consternation eventually won out, and her voice was contemplative as she broke the silence. "Dr. T'Soni is...a hell of a lot of things. I don't deserve her."

The statement was factual, offered without any trace of false modesty. Shepard reached for the glass abandoned by Liara and this time settled for a small sip, letting the whiskey linger in her mouth before swallowing it. She gently swirled the glass, staring at the rolling amber liquid before fixing Sam with a hard stare. "She's also off-limits as a topic of conversation."

"Okay," Sam breathed out, voice a mixture of uncertainty and inquisition. "So tell me, Commander, what would you like to talk about? Oh! I've been meaning to tell you about my conversation with EDI about the potential to expand the bandwidth capacity of the QEC. As you know, the current data limit is a single qubit, but EDI has theorized..."

"Traynor." Sam's impending stream of techno babble died as Shepard threw her name across the room like the crack of a whip. "Look, you're smart. Brilliant, by all accounts. So you should get my meaning when I say you're not up here just so we can talk. " Shepard snorted the last word with derision.

Feeling abashed, it was Sam's turn to drain the contents of her glass with a single motion, mimicking the practiced ease of Shepard's earlier display. The soldier stared at her, and Sam chuckled at the question implied by Shepard's raised eyebrow. She was used to the reaction - apparently Marines wouldn't be Marines if they didn't grossly underestimate the ability of a lab rat like Sam to match them drink for drink. It gave her a tactical advantage she'd employed on more than one occasion.

"Careful Commander, your assumptions are showing. If there's one thing a kid from the colonies grows up knowing how to do, it's drink. The frontier doesn't offer a lot of entertainment options besides drinking." _And fucking_, she added silently.

Shepard inclined her head and laughed, conceding the point. The glint in her eye suggested her thoughts were running along the same course as Sam's. She tipped her glass towards the specialist before draining it, saying, "Well then, here's to colony kids. If they all turn out like you, I'm starting to see the appeal of frontier life."

Sam smiled, feeling herself relax despite the flush she felt creeping across her face - whether from the compliment or the drink she didn't know. The companionable silence soon faded, however, as the thread of conversation led her thoughts to home. She pushed away the familiar feelings of despair she felt at the thought of her family. Not knowing whether they still lived was the hardest part of the war, and a small part of her couldn't help but imagine their disappointment at her transition from a respected Alliance scientist-soldier to her commanding officer's "stress relief."

Besieged by conflicting emotions, she again retreated from Shepard, turning her back on the commander to idly play with the liquor bottle resting on the table. It was so much easier think when she couldn't see the other woman. She still faced the bulkhead as she began to speak, her voice barely rising above the relentless hum of the Normandy's engines.

"This isn't who I am." She wasn't impulsive. She wasn't reckless. And above all else, she wasn't the other woman.

_It may not be who you are. But right here, right now, it's who you _want_ to be_, some small yet stubborn part of her mind insisted.

Shepard gave no sign that she'd heard the specialist as she responded to her own private conversation. "I tried to fight it." Shepard shrugged, her face caught between a smile and a grimace. "I guess even I can't win them all."

"I don't know why I'm here," Sam mused, continuing her own conversation as she finally turned around - only to startle at finding Shepherd hovering mere inches away, having silently risen from the couch to close the distance between them.

Shepard reached up to gently push a stray lock of hair back behind Sam's ear. "Don't you?" she whispered in a low voice, slowly trailing one finger down Sam's neck. The light, teasing contact left her struggling to keep her eyes open as Shepard's lips came within a hair's breadth of her own. Still aching for control of the situation, Sam placed her palms firmly against the solid chest in front of her and pushed, gaining some breathing room.

Shepard leaned into the hands on her chest, testing their resistance before letting out a frustrated growl. Eyes flashing, she took several steps back towards the middle of the cabin.

"So leave then, if this isn't what you want. I'm not an old Earth pirate captain, and you're not a goddamn spoil of war. No one is keeping you here against your will."

A long moment passed as the women considered each other, the cabin silent except for their slightly labored breaths. Shepard's eyes raked across Sam's body, cataloging the visible heaving of her chest and the flush that was noticeable despite her dark complexion. Their eyes met, and Sam knew from the look the commander wore that her own lust was laid bare for the other woman to see. Shepard confirmed this with knowing chuckle, saying, "Yeah. That's what I fucking thought. "

Sam was torn by a dueling desire to either slap or kiss the arrogant expression off of Shepard's face. Fear of the consequences of either act kept her motionless, completely mesmerized by the woman standing a few feet away.

Once again, Shepard broke the silence. "Now. Tell me you're here because you want this." Shepard punctuated the sentence by unfastening her own belt and slowly drawing it from around her waist. Traynor's eyes hypnotically followed the other woman's motions, and she barely registered her own tongue darting out to lick her lips as she swallowed hard.

"Tell me you're here because you've fantasized about this moment when you're lying alone in your bunk at night, wondering if it's safe to touch yourself." Shepard slowly untucked her shirt, undid the top few fasteners, and pulled it over her head. Sam drank in the sight of the soldier, her standard-issue tank top accentuating the contrasting hard planes and soft curves of her physique. Shepard's dog tags glinted in the cabin's lights as she let her shirt drop to the floor.

"Tell me you're here because that big brain of yours has spent _way _too much time and energy wondering just how good of a fuck I am." Shepard reached for her pants and undid the top button. She slowly drew down her zipper and parted her fly wide, pushing the waistband down just enough to expose her hips and reveal a narrow band of skin between the bottom of her tank and the top of her briefs.

Sam's brain was misfiring, the visual stimulus of watching Shepard - the actual Commander Shepard, the Savior of the Citadel - put the "tease" in strip tease completely cutting off her higher brain functions. The throbs coming from below her belt told her that the rest of her body was firing on all cylinders, however.

The only response she could manage was a strangled, "Yes."

"Yes?" The smirk in Shepard's voice matched the one on her face. "I don't recall asking a yes or no question, Specialist. What I _do_ recall is giving you a very specific set of orders. Which you are free to disobey - without consequence - by leaving this cabin now." Shepard took a step forward, a predatory gleam in her eyes.

"Your other option is to damn well follow them."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Fair warning. From here on out we're swimming in smut-infested waters, folks.**

* * *

Sam heard her own breath hitch raggedly at Shepard's demand, but she was too disembodied to actually feel it. She closed her eyes, seeking refuge from the visual stimulus in an effort to rationally weigh her remaining options.

_It's your move, Sammy. Once your hand comes off of this piece, there's no taking it back._ Disconnected thoughts flickered rapidly through her mind.

Her family at her Alliance graduation ceremony, faces full of love and pride.

Past lovers, dramatically diverse except for the kindness behind their eyes.

Life on the Normandy, the thrill and terror of dancing on the razor's edge.

Liara's face, obdurate control breaking against a tide of relief.

Shepard's unyielding heat, seared across the surface of her hands.

A host of Reapers, angry red energy laying waste to a smoldering Vancouver skyline.

It was the last image that finally pushed her over the edge, fragile mortality emboldening her to make the move she'd spent the last 24 hours contemplating.

She opened her eyes and met Shepard's stare, unflinching.

"I do want this. Have wanted it since the first time I saw you across the CIC...in full armor, fresh from battle. Not just a dashing warrior, but an actual living legend." She paused, needing time to push back against the tide of embarrassment rising from her confession. Despite her flushed cheeks, her voice was steady as she continued.

"How could I resist? Who could? And you're damn right I have _absolutely_ spent much too much time...dreaming about what it would be like to be with you like this. To touch you. To taste you. To _feel_ you. God help me, but it's true."

Sam watched as a triumphant smile flashed across Shepard's face in the instant before the soldier launched towards her. Sam had heard the crew talk about Shepard's speed on the battlefield, but she never thought she would witness it first hand. She didn't know whether to count herself blessed or cursed.

It was her last coherent thought before Shepard collapsed the entirety of her world into two strong arms and the hot mouth pressed against her own. Shepard's momentum lifted the smaller woman up onto the table, and Sam's legs instinctively wrapped around the other woman's body in an effort to bring her closer.

Sam was on fire, all of her senses working in concert to add fuel to the blaze. Shepard's deep, hungry kisses sent a line of molten heat coursing through her body until it pooled deep within her core. Shepard's lips were soft - but how she wielded them was not. The soldier kissed her like she was a hill that needed to be taken. Focused, determined, and above all else, relentless.

Sam welcomed the less-than-gentle kisses, anticipating the possession foreshadowed by the bruising caress of Shepard's lips and the crushing strength of her embrace. She let out a low groan as Shepard broke off her frontal assault to work her mouth down Sam's neck, briefly pausing to suck lightly at a delicate pulse point.

Shepard's downward progress stalled against the obstacle of Sam's uniform, and she pulled back with a huff. "Less clothes...more skin."

Sam agreed. She disentangled herself from Shepard's embrace to tug at her shirt, but her trembling fingers couldn't seem to work the fasteners. Shepard impatiently joined the effort, and with a few quick, rough tugs divested Sam of both her shirt and tank. Left wearing only her bra, Sam found herself blushing under the commander's unblinking gaze.

Shepard's mouth quirked as she took in the sight before her.

"Why, Specialist...I admit it's been awhile since I graduated from officer training, but I'm pretty sure _this_..." the commander's voice practically purred as she ran two fingers beneath the dark red lace, fingernails grazing across a stiff nipple "...is against regulation."

Sam's breath hitched at the teasing touch, a flare of desire burning away any self-consciousness she felt about her impulsive wardrobe choice. Her back arched in a bid to increase contact with Shepard's hand as she replied in a husky voice, "Guilty as charged, Commander. But I took a chance that it might distract you just enough to keep me out of the brig. Do you not approve?"

"Oh, I definitely approve. It's almost as sexy as the woman wearing it." Shepard leaned into Sam, nestling her mouth against the specialist's ear as she continued in a low voice. "But still, rules are rules, and I run a tight ship. I'm going to have to think of some sort of punishment for this flagrant infraction." As punctuation, she roughly pinched a nipple through the lace, causing Sam to gasp and buck into the curves pressed against her own.

Shepard resumed her assault across the newly exposed hills and valleys of caramel skin, her mouth and hand working in tandem to overload Sam's senses. Their increasingly labored breaths filled the cabin, harmonizing soft, sporadic sighs with more guttural groans.

Craving an expedition of their own, Sam's hands slipped beneath Shepard's tank top, fingers kneading the soft skin and hard muscle that reflected the commander's contradictions. She lightly trailed her fingernails across the other woman's broad shoulders, biting her lip as she felt a deep shudder run through the soldier, accompanied by a sharp, hissing breath.

Sam enjoyed a brief moment of satisfaction at coaxing such a visceral response out of the commander before being distracted by the sudden contraction of the muscles beneath her fingers. An instant later she let out an involuntary gasp of surprise as powerful arms gathered her up in one swift motion, lifting her at least a full head above the other woman.

Shepard chuckled as she clung to the commander like a tree in a hurricane. Sam marveled at the other woman's strength - she'd never had a lover who could literally crush her. She didn't know whether to be aroused or terrified. She settled on both.

As the specialist looked down into the commander's upturned face, she realized that she must be wearing some trace of alarm underneath her desire, because Shepard met her eyes with a reassuring smile, saying "Don't worry. I've got you."

Sam felt the truth behind those words as she relaxed into the embrace, even as she tried to ignore any possible double meaning behind the words. As the tension ebbed out of the smaller woman, the commander continued with a wicked grin. "Right where I want you, in fact." The specialist let out a small yelp of surprise as she felt a hand sneak up her back where agile fingers unhooked her bra with a quick pinch.

The thought of having Shepard's mouth on her bare, sensitive skin banished the last of Sam's trepidation at hovering several feet above the ground. Flush with anticipation, she impatiently pulled the lace garment off of her shoulders and flung it across the room. An instant later fantasy became reality, and Sam let out a shuddering sigh as the other woman's warm mouth enveloped her velvet flesh.

Shepard's tongue lavished her breast with firm and steady strokes, creating electric sensations that quickly set Sam's upper body undulating in a matching rhythm. The specialist released a string of small moans as she threaded her fingers through Shepard's hair in a futile bid to bring the other woman even closer.

"Oh God...yes" she hissed as Shepard rolled the sensitive flesh against her teeth. "More...more teeth. Can you...ohhhh..._bite_." Sam felt a whimper threatening to escape as she fervently whispered, "Please."

Sam immediately felt teeth clamp down around her, hard but controlled. The pinch of pain sent renewed ripples of pleasure cascading through her, echoing into dull throbs across her groin. She released a sharp cry and roughly grabbed fistfuls of Shepard's hair, pulling a grunt out of the woman. The harsh touch only spurred Shepard on, and she quickly established a new pattern, alternating between firm bites and gentler licks, interspersed with brief bouts of sucking.

Lost in a lusty haze, Sam couldn't say how long Shepard focused her attention on one dusky nipple before shifting to her other. The neglected nerve endings awakened under the commander's ministrations, starting the cycle of pleasure over again. Writhing in Shepard's iron embrace, her lips moved in an unending string of whispered invocations. As she clenched the fists she'd buried in Shepard's hair, Sam realized she had never truly been "driven wild" until this moment. She felt the stirring of a primal urge to claim or be claimed.

Before she could begin to formulate a plan of action, however, she felt the world shift as Shepard released her nipple and began walking them towards the couch. Sam grasped the arms holding her, feeling the corded muscles flex as Shepard smoothly lowered her onto the leather surface.

For a brief instant Shepard hovered above her before closing the gap between them and claiming her lips with a kiss - this one more languid than her earlier barrage, although no less intense. Sam parted her lips, quickly meeting the probing tongue with her own. The specialist luxuriated in the feeling of the other woman's length pressed firmly against her own, and the influx of sensations coaxed a groan from her throat.

Needing to feel more skin, Sam grabbed the edges of Shepard's tank and tugged it up. The commander briefly released her lips, allowing Sam to peel the fabric off of her body, leaving the soldier's torso clad only in her regulation-issue bra.

As Shepard resumed her relentless exploration of Sam's mouth, the specialist set off on an expedition of her own by sliding her hand up the hard body above her until it discovered a cloth-covered breast. She cupped the firm weight in her hand, gently teasing the tip until she felt it rise to meet her thumb. She gently tweaked the stiff peak, relishing the moan Shepard released into her mouth.

Shepard slipped one leg between her own, and Sam instantly ground her knee against Shepard's center as she sought similar contact for her own throbbing core. The commander briefly bore down against her leg before making a noise that could only be described as a growl. Breaking the kiss, the commander looked at her with hooded eyes as she spoke in a low, rough voice.

"Enough. I need to taste you. Now."

Rising to stand at the end of the couch, the soldier grabbed Sam's thighs and pulled the specialist towards the edge in one swift, possessive motion. Sam swallowed hard as she watched Shepard kneel between her legs and grab her right foot, making quick work of removing her boot and sock. The commander gave her a wolfish grin as she chucked the heavy boot over her shoulder. Sam heard it land somewhere across the room with a dull thud. She repeated the performance with her left boot before bringing her hands to rest on Sam's knees. Shepard paused to rake her eyes across the specialist's prone form, and Sam felt her face flush when piercing green eyes met her own. "Goddamn, Traynor. You're fucking gorgeous."

Before her overclocked brain could formulate a response, Shepard was moving again, running her hands up the length of Sam's legs. A shudder ran through her as the soldier briefly grazed her center on the way to her ultimate destination. Shepard roughly grabbed her waistband, her strong fingers quickly undoing her belt buckle, button, and zipper.

"Lift up," Shepard commanded, and Sam's hips immediately thrust upwards as every instinct she possessed led her to comply. The commander pulled down her trousers and panties as a unit, sliding both garments off of her legs and tossing them carelessly beside her on the floor.

Sam felt a brief flash of irrational annoyance that Shepard hadn't taken the opportunity to properly appreciate her "special occasion" underwear - a completely impractical lace thong that matched her previously-discarded bra. She'd spent a ridiculous amount of time and credits procuring the set on a whim (such luxuries being difficult to secure during wartime), and she felt she deserved at least a few seconds of appreciative leering for her efforts. She was about to vocalize her displeasure when Shepard's husky voice interrupted her thoughts, issuing an order that brought her train of thought to a screeching halt.

"Spread your legs."

Sam finally noticed how Shepard's hands were resting lightly on her thighs, drawing light circles on her skin. Although she was clearly in a position to do so, the soldier made no effort to manipulate Sam's limbs herself. She obviously wanted the specialist to willingly expose her most intimate flesh, and Sam felt her stomach clench as a wave of vulnerability swept through her.

The nervous fluttering in her gut made Sam hesitate to follow Shepard's direction for the first time since she'd committed herself to this course of action. She drew in a deep breath as she tried to calm her nerves, seeking reassurance from the desire clearly etched across the commander's face. She studied the other woman's features, watching as Shepard's swollen lips pulled back into a smirk. When the soldier spoke her voice was amused, although an unmistakable thread of steel lay beneath her words.

"I'm waiting. Don't make me repeat myself, Specialist."


End file.
